


Trust

by sniperct



Series: Grey Pryde [7]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Branding, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3203204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniperct/pseuds/sniperct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first time that Kitty has seen the Shi'ar mark on Rachel's back.  She's compelled to reach out and touch it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust

Rachel twitches the first time Kitty’s fingers touch her back. The other mutant jerks her hand back. They haven’t been in the same room together in so long that neither knows what boundaries they should have. Kitty hasn’t really seen the death mark until now. She’s known about it, but she’s never seen it. Rachel keeps herself too covered, until now.

The second time Kitty touches Rachel’s back, the redhead freezes. Kitty doesn’t move, waiting for some sign. When nothing comes, she trails two fingers along the line of a wing. The brand (and it’s very much a brand and not a tattoo) is in the shape of a bird. A Phoenix. She feels a surge of anger on Rachel’s behalf. She’d never _asked for that_. Her mother hadn’t. Her family sure as hell didn’t deserve that. 

Kitty’s fingers move further down, tracing the body before moving back onto another part of the wing. Rachel fights a momentary panic, sweat beading on her brow and rolling down her shoulder. Kitty presses her lips there, lightly and stills her fingers. She keeps them there until Rachel relaxes again.

 _Brands_. Kitty’s grandparents had had them. She knew mutants with marks from alternate futures too close to her own to be comfortable. Rachel’s face bore the marks from her own terrible timeline. It had taken Kitty months of gentle stroking before Rachel had grown comfortable with the idea, and now she’ll have to start all over.

Over and over, Kitty strokes the mark on Rachel’s back. Gently. Lightly. Each brush of her fingertips like a feather. Rachel shivers again, but the feeling is different. She’s all cried out (and Kitty stops and holds her for a long time before Rachel guides her hands back to her back) and the longer Kitty touches her, the more she feels like she matters. Feelings of inadequacy and of not belonging have rippled under her surface for so long that she’s forgotten what it is like to be wanted. Forgotten what it is like to _trust_.

Trust has nothing to do with the fire that burns in her belly whenever Kitty’s lips brush her shoulder. Trust has _everything_ to do with it. She can’t trust anyone else with this. It’s always Kitty. It’s always _been_ Kitty.

Kitty’s left hand moves to Rachel’s face, touching one of the red marks there. She doesn’t remember when Rachel stopped hiding those. With her right hand, she moves it from the mark, sliding teasingly along Ray’s hip, and then resting it on her stomach. She holds her friend against, eyes closed and face nuzzling her shoulder.

The fire burns hotter and Rachel mumbles something.

“Mm?” Kitty lifts her head a little.

 _You’re not close enough._ Ray doesn’t trust her voice, and reverts to touching Kitty’s mind.

Kitty is pressed against her back and isn’t sure how she can get any closer, so she squeezes tighter.

Rachel twists around until they’re face to face. Her eyes are puffy and red, a state she never wants another person to see, but it’s Kitty. It’s okay if it’s Kitty. It’s okay if Kitty kisses her. It’s okay if Kitty phases her top off and they press chest to chest, skin to skin. It’s okay if she starts sobbing again as Kitty’s fingers trace the brand by memory. It’s all okay as long as she’s anchored by the woman in her arms.

She doesn’t move, she just lets Rachel get it all out. The anger and the pain and the trauma, built up over years and buried under mountains of denial. There are things that Rachel has never told her before now, secrets she’s kept even from herself, and Kitty can feel her own walls cracking. But not tonight. Tonight she can be Rachel’s anchor. Rachel can be hers, later.

Lips find lips again, fire smoldering between them. Rachel falls to her back, Kitty on top of her. Hair tickles her face and she kisses Kitty’s jaw and her neck. “Stay.” She captures Kitty’s lips again. “ _Stay_.” Her hands scorch up Kitty’s back. “ _Please_.”

“Okay,” Kitty gasps. Her eyes water. “Okay…”

Kitty stays. She stays. Rachel needs so much of her that she feels like she’s drowning, but she gives it all willingly, and takes everything Ray offers back. It’s Rachel, it’s Rachel in her arms and it feels more right than she ever thought it could.

In the silence of the afterglow, where there’s nothing between them and only a thin sheet for shelter from the world, something bubbles up inside Rachel. Something long ago locked away, something she’s hidden from herself for years.

“I love you.”

Kitty’s grip tightens on Ray. She’s stronger than she looks and Ray lets her hold her in place. The response comes quickly but quietly, like whispering a secret.

“I love you too.” And the walls crumble. A childhood given up, hundreds of battles and torments and ever mounting losses. But Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. Her Ray, her Red. 

“Stay.”

They curl in together, and Rachel buries her face in Kitty’s hair, hoping, _praying_ she understands. She doesn’t need to worry.

_Okay._


End file.
